


Life and Death in Gyr Abania

by varis_zos_galvus



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 4.2 spoilers, F/M, Gen, Post-Stormblood, Stormblood, garlean mad science, non-canon, sort of spoilers anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13644744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varis_zos_galvus/pseuds/varis_zos_galvus
Summary: Zenos yae Galvus survives the events of Stormblood using Garlean science and Allagan cloning techniques -- but he's stuck in the middle of hostile territory. With the help of an old friend he ventures to return to the capital come Hell or high water, but without Shinryu and the Eyes of Nidhogg, how will he manage the unpredictable power of the Resonant?- - -I started writing this before the 4.2 reveal and decided to keep it as an AU thing. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

_No, no, no, no, no, **no, NO**._

Zenos yae Galvus could not breathe.

He was dead. He had to be. Were that so, then the act of drawing breath would be unnecessary – but his lungs burned with the strain and his heart threatened to burst from his chest. His eyes were open, he saw nothing.

Light.

The sense of _falling_.

He was bolt upright in the darkness, surroundings unfamiliar. Lights gradually came on in rows, one after the other, the sound of heavy switches being flicked into place. Zenos’ hands went to his throat.

_A dream?_

No. All of it had happened, just not directly to _him_.

Bare feet hit the metal floor and he stood, not noticing or caring about his own nudity, nor the stillness in the air about him. The prince’s memory was gradually coming back, the infirmary reminding him just why he was there. Everything started falling into place once he’d moved into the laboratory and he laid eyes on the pods set into the wall – three of them, two empty. A duplicate of himself within the last one.

_It’s cold in here. At least put on pants, for fuck'ssake._

That thought was abandoned as Zenos stepped closer to that last remaining pod.

_The first few died within moments of their activation. Had they been successful, they would have been able to function without my consciousness on board. The first time you watch yourself die is… an experience. The third time, one wonders if perhaps this particular project was a waste of precious resources._

_You sound like your father._

His hand hovered over the pod’s control panel. The keystrokes to shut down the machine and kill its occupant quickly, quietly… he knew them by heart. The process had developed after the third clone’s death. After a while, he simply had no interest in watching himself-but-not-himself bleed out internally and choke on his own blood.

_No. Not today._

Slowly letting out a breath through his nose, Zenos made his way back toward the infirmary. The utter silence in the lab had started to sink in.

A glance toward one of the computer panels against a far wall confirmed his suspicions: the complex had been breached.

_Ah. Right._

Dressing himself was a mechanical act. That damnable gaudy armour was rusting away in the soil of Gyr Abania somewhere, he reckoned, and the standard-issue set of Imperial gear that he had was certainly nothing special. Considering all that had gone on it was most likely for the best.

Oh. And a _gunblade_ , the one hint toward his station that he allowed himself to retain.

The crown prince idly examined his gloved hands. Not so much blood on them then, was there? He could change that in an instant.

Some minor adjustments for the sake of comfort, and with his hand upon the hilt of his gunblade, the scarcely-recognizable crown prince of fucking _Garlemald_ strode from the laboratory and into the main hall.

_Guinea pig, indeed._

It wasn’t until he’d passed through the innermost secured door that he started to piece together what had happened. The Ala Mhigans had found their way in like the swarming insects they were. They hadn’t quite made it to where he rested. That was one secret that was safe for the time being.

Zenos’ gaze swept the hallway before him as he went over the most recent events in his mind. He’d slit his throat – or, his clone had slit his throat, and he was just along for the ride. Mostly. Oh, he’d gotten so caught up in the chase… and it had been a massive success. The Resonant _worked_. He was able to control a fucking _primal_. The possibilities? Endless. There was so much work to be done.

Without Aulus, however, he’d have to do it all himself. In time he’d be able to train another scientist, another team, to handle moving his consciousness about between cloned bodies if absolutely necessary – but he wasn’t certain he had that kind of time.

He couldn’t do that _here_.

Through the second set of secured doors, and he was starting to see signs of the battle that had taken place – was _still_ taking place. Zenos sneered, his hand going to the gunblade at his hip. When the third door to the main body of the facility slid open he was more than ready, and the handful of Eorzean Alliance troops that were working on scavenging the place looked completely baffled that someone had come out of the secured portion of the lab. A glance backward showed him that they’d tried to get in and had not been able to breach the door.

Everything happened so _quickly_ from the point of view of the Eorzeans, but for Zenos, notsomuch. Time seemed to slow for him. Each target selected, inspected, and executed quickly and efficiently. None of them were worthy of his time. Momentum from one kill took him into the next, and the next, and…

When the last man fell, he pulled his gunblade free from the corpse and paused to listen.

Alarms keening, running footsteps, shouting.

He could wipe out every last individual that met him there if he wanted to, yes? No. Zenos felt something very foreign to him: fatigue. If he pushed himself too much he would _definitely_ be killed, even with the power he held.

When the Eorzeans arrived to respond to the commotion he was already gone – as were the clothes of a Roegadyn officer.


	2. Chapter 2: A Five-Fulm Complication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A five-fulm-tall complication is added to Zenos' journey, and he starts to learn what life is like without his favourite toys.  
> \- - -  
> Project GLADIUS was an attempt Aurelia oen Lucius (the Balmung-canon version of Aurelia dus Lucius) made to imitate a free paladin's skillset. She scrapped the project for reasons that I'll probably post here at some point but can be found on my main Tumblr account.  
> \- - -  
> This version of Aurelia is something like 6 years younger than Zenos, and they knew each other as children -- though Aurelia doesn't remember him since she was so young. This drives him batty because HOW DARE. So that's a theme that'll come up a fair bit.

The worst decision Aurelia had ever made was to set foot in Gyr Abania without her GLADIUS armour.

She had her pistol, one of her sniper rifles, and a distinct lack of the heavy armour that made her feel most comfortable. Facing down a handful of Ala Mhigans with nothing between her and them but a loose blouse, trousers, and a basic gun was not her idea of a good time. All she’d wanted to do was find proof that the prince was dead. She hadn’t believed it. She hadn’t had _reason_ to believe it.

Not with the letters, and the gifts.

There wasn’t time for her to mentally kick herself for being _so bloody stupid_ but she did so anyway as she opened fire. She was backed into a corner and the only way out would be in pieces, so she might as well take as many down with her as she could.

* * *

Gunfire.

Zenos looked up from where he crouched by the Velodyna River. He’d just paused to rest after two days of not doing so, and to get some desperately-needed water into him. Nobody had bothered him much thanks, in part, to his Maelstrom uniform. Nobody had taken a very close look at him, either.

He pulled his hair back into a ponytail, tied back with cord he’d borrowed from an outpost. Zenos stood carefully, placing his ridiculous hat on his head, and he listened. Closed his eyes. A brief vision left him momentarily dazed but told him all he needed to know – someone very familiar was in trouble, someone that shouldn’t have been out there in the first place. Once he’d shaken off the Resonant’s warning he hurried off to find his quarry.

* * *

Two of five men had fallen, but three more had joined in.

Aurelia shot another between the eyes and the Ala Mhigans lunged at her. She fell beneath them, one stepped back to stand guard, and though she fought to keep her weapon it was soon torn from her grip. Her vision erupted into stars as she was pummeled by boot and fist alike, and the young woman was certain she was going to die.

Two more men broke away to join their fellow, and Aurelia barely registered the ruckus that had started several fulms away from where she lay. One of the Ala Mhigans dragged her to her feet by her blouse, hefted her into the air.

“Look at this, she’s fuckin’ Garlean!”

Her glamour had finally given out, revealing the goldsmith’s third eye. Her vision was growing dark, soon it wouldn’t matter.

As the man hauled back to slug her one last time the screams of his brethren reached their ears. He hesitated, looked back.

Moments later a standard-issue shortsword jutted from his stomach through his back and he let go. Aurelia didn’t hit the ground. The sword was abandoned in favour of catching her, and all the young woman was able to register was a reddish uniform and strong grip.

“For fuck’s sake, girl.”

She knew that voice but she couldn’t _place it_.

Aurelia mercifully lost consciousness.

* * *

_She can’t see you and she doesn’t know who you are._

Zenos clutched the small, broken form against his chest. He’d gathered up the pistol – of reasonable size for him, but not meant for such small hands as its owner’s – and he jammed the weapon into his belt. He had a vague idea of where he was. There were a handful of abandoned villages in the area, if he could get to one of them without getting stopped he’d be able to–

_You aren’t a healer. What does it matter if you save her or if you don’t? She isn’t important._

As much as he tried to tell himself that he really couldn’t _believe it_. There were too many memories tied up in this young woman for him to let her go so easily. He thought he’d set things up so that she wouldn’t have to throw herself into danger anymore. Zenos thought a lot of things, like that his influence would matter in the long run or that he’d be ruling Gyr Abania for the rest of his father’s life.

Nothing ever went as predicted.

As Zenos swiftly made his way from the carnage he’d left behind, he was aware of the ebbing life in his arms. He’d killed so many people, he should have been used to it.

_I still see you as that small, stupid, terrified child I knew as a boy._

* * *

Zenos brute-forced his way into a long-abandoned shop and he set his charge on the counter, then proceeded to shed the thick coat of his Maelstrom uniform. He wrapped the unconscious young woman in that coat and stood there, staring down at her, trying to figure out just what the hell he was going to do.

_You can use magic, damn you, just do something._

He removed his gloves, then gingerly felt along Aurelia’s sides. Things were moving that shouldn’t have been. He saw flashes of the damage – broken ribs, internal bleeding, head trauma. Zenos narrowed his eyes. There was warmth beneath his fingertips, not of blood, but of aether. Two days’ worth of fuel from those he’d killed. If he could just…

_Bones shifting to where they were supposed to be, flesh knitting together, a slowing heart gaining strength._

_Why… why am I so tired?_

As the last of that gathered aether left him, the world started to spin and the floor rose up to punch Zenos yae Galvus in the face.


	3. Chapter 3: Recharge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, aether snacks.

Consciousness was fleeting.

When he was awake the Resonant assaulted him with visions and flashbacks. His father consorting with Ascians, a Garlean man cutting down another in a fit of rage -- he knew that woman. He'd seen her serene smile many times before. _She smiled in death, too._ Another vision of Aurelia sobbing bitterly about him was what woke him from another vague slumber and left him with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He found the young woman crouching by his side at that moment, crystallized remains of water sprites piled beside her. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, Zenos gazed absently at her through his eyelashes and murmured, "Are you real this time?"

She said nothing, she just took his hand and guided him to the shards that she'd placed between them. The shock of bringing more aether into his system brought some clarity to the prince's mind. He sat up, blinking rapidly, and stared at his companion for several moments. Her expression of relief just confused him further.

"You mourned my death. Why?"

The question surprised Aurelia, whose reaction was to just... stare at him. Zenos leaned closer and tried to catch her gaze.

"Aurelia cen Lucius--"

"-- first off, it's _oen_ Lucius now. Secondly, I had told you that you were not allowed to die and you didn't listen. Third, the only person that can use my full name to force a response is my grandmother and she is dead."

Zenos halted. It was his turn to stare. "What?" He asked. "When?"

"That's not -- are you feeling any better? We cannot stay here."

"Aurelia," He pressed, "When did she die."

Her hand brushed against his forehead again and he saw it, he saw the face of another Garlean contorted in rage, axe raised above his head. It was just like one of his earlier fever dreams. Zenos' eyes went wide, pupils dilated as the scene played over in his mind -- the image of that furious man bringing the axe down over and over and over again, blood splattered over his armour and face and snow-white hair. Zenos gasped, and for a brief moment he felt as if he were laying in a rapidly-expanding pool of his own blood. He looked down, he caught the sight of his flesh split and rent and exposed bone and --

"Zenos, _Zenos_!" Aurelia was shaking him, he nearly lashed out, just _barely_ managed to stop himself from knocking her aside. His eyes were still wide, he was _panting_ , and as he gradually returned to himself he whispered, "So that was why she was so familiar. When--"

"... Last year," Aurelia said. "Maternal grandfather killed her. Some of the Third Legion killed him. Then he came back. Zenos, are you going to be alright? We _need_ to move."

"Yes," he rasped. "Pass my coat. We shall head to the border."

He would have to ask about this later. The thought of someone murdering that old sniper -- someone he remembered very clearly as having treated him quite well when he was young -- would have made him angry had he been capable. There was something simmering below the surface.

Aurelia pulled his coat off the counter and stood, offering it to him. He pulled his coat on as he shakily got to his feet and he looked down at the younger woman. His gaze lasted a little too long, made Aurelia shift uncomfortably before she finally took hold of his arm and gave him a light tug.

"Come on," Aurelia said quietly. As if in a daze, Zenos stumbled after her. He regained his composure as they stepped out into the sunlight.

At the sound of distant commotion the pair hurried along, taking to the wilderness in the hopes of evading patrols.


End file.
